


Terrifier

by orphan_account



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: :), Ba Sing Se, Be gay, Blood, Canon-Typical Violence, Enemies to Friends, Fighting, Friends to Lovers, Hermes Crimes, Jet (Avatar) Lives, Like, Lovers To Enemies, M/M, Maybe alluding to ACAB, Non-Canon Relationship, Robin Hood Crimes, Scars, Secret Identity, Some angst, Swordfighting, Trauma, Zuko (Avatar) is an Idiot, Zuko is an Awkward Turtleduck, a good amount of blood, coffee shop AU, do crime, hate/love, pent up aggression
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-14
Updated: 2020-06-15
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:07:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24708073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: One slip up breaks The Blue Spirit’s identity. With that blackmail, he reluctantly agrees to join the Freedom Fighters.Aka y’all really like blue spirit damn y’all thirsty come get some juice
Relationships: Jet/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 22
Kudos: 202





	1. Pent Up

**Author's Note:**

> 1) y’all thirsty for the blue spirit  
> 2) y’all thirsty for secret identity aus  
> 

The air around the shop wafted with the smell of matcha and hōjicha, the scent of the teas mottled with burning resin and smoldering embers of an oven that ought to be replaced. The fire was distinctly woody, no undertones of oil or gas. It was a rare occurrence in Ba Sing Se, what with the constant industry evolution and little care for the lower ring’s pollution.

Within the small wooden building, a handful of benders and children sat about the scattered tables, drinking tea and playing board games. The shop’s staff wandered around doing their jobs, a young man serving and cleaning, one much older behind the counter and brewing tea.

The young man wrote down an order, walking up to the counter with a dead bored expression. “Uncle,” he called, gabbing the old man’s attention. “Two cups of Da Hong Pao,” he mumbled. Then, after a moment, “Please.” The old man smiled, nodding.

“Of course, Li. Thank you,” he hummed. The boy nodded, pausing when he hears the telltale bell ring of the door being opened. He turned on his heel, watching the three who entered sit down at an open table. There were two lanky young men, and one… well, he wasn’t quite sure. It wasn’t his business, he supposed. He set down his tray, opting instead for the thick pad of parchment and the sharpened stick he could burn to act as a brush.

He approached the table; not bothering to plaster on a fake smile as he stood there. “What would you like?” He asked, his voice keeping that same dull note.

“I’ll do a Jasmine,” what looked like to be the oldest one informed. He was oddly armored, weapons strapped to his back and hip, chewing on a shoot of… straw? Wheat? For all Li cared, he could be chewing on a stick. He just nodded, scribbling it down. No one often saw his writing, and he kept it that way. If anyone did; they would note the unnaturally smooth, sophisticated lettering of the fire nation. “Then he’ll have a lapsung, she’ll do a longjing.” Ah. She. Well, he didn’t really care. He’d never see her again. He nodded wordlessly, turning to return to his Uncle with the order.

He tore off the small piece of parchment, placing it down. “Jasmine, lapsung and longjing,” he murmured, sitting down in front of the bar that functioned as the order table. He rested his head in his hand, intending to just take a short break, but he couldn’t help but notice eyes boring into his back. Taking a glance back over his left shoulder (it was harder to tell when his bad eye was looking at things), noticing it was that same boy, with the damned straw between his lips. There was something oddly annoying about him, something that made him want to light that grain on fire to wipe the cocky smirk off of his face.

And it didn’t change the entirety of their stay. When he came back to clear the table, he immediately spoke again. “I didn’t catch your name,” he hummed, leaning his chin on the heel of his hand. Li sighed, looking up.

“I didn’t throw it,” he muttered, wiping away the stray drops of tea.

“Well then, could you?” He tilted his head with the same cocky tone.

There was a long stint of silence before he broke, sighing softly. “Li. It’s Li.” He continued to walk, beginning to close up shop.

❂

“I don’t know what the hell you saw in that tea shop prick,” Smellerbee muttered as the three got home. “You never pay for _anything _. Now all’a sudden you’re leaving tips? Asking names?” she scoffed, carefully turning on the apartment’s gas-powered lights one by one. Jet grinned, looking over to her.__

“Let’s just say… I think I know him from somewhere,” he replied, tilting his head slightly. He spat his straw out once the fibers had broken down to the point where he could taste fresh green grass, opting for a new one from the wild plant outside their window.

❂

The nights in Ba Sing Se were rough, especially for the former Fire Prince. Before he had been exiled, he had a nightly routine of bending before bed to get out excess energy, relieving him of agitation and constant movements. But here, where he was forbidden from even using a lick of flame for any reason, he constantly felt as if his muscles were to burst right out of his skin. His skin stayed hot, his attitude stayed antsy.

Zuko paced about his room, his hands folded behind his back. He couldn’t keep them there, though, constantly moving them to other positions. On his hips, folded across his chest, scratching at his arms. He just needed to keep moving. Moving, moving, _moving _. In his anxious state, he didn’t even notice a figure appear in his open window, watching him with a grin.__

“You okay there?” Jet asked, making Zuko, gasp and nearly fall over. The prince whipped around to stare at him, still scratching at his wrists.

“ _You, _what the hell are you doing here?” he asked. He had to admit, he had rather disliked the boy as a customer, he had a bad attitude.__

“You didn’t seem very keen on talking today. Not that you ever are.”

“What is that even supposed to mean? I don’t even know you. Get off of my property before I call the Dai Li,” Zuko threatened.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m Jet. there, now you know me.”

“ _Out. _” Zuko could feel the sparks in his fingers with his frustration, begging to be let out and light the kid ablaze. He balled his hands into fists, reaching for one of the dual swords that sat just below his bed. Jet only grinned wider.__

“I was right. You’re the Blue Spirit.” the observation made Zuko freeze in a panic, looking up to Jet.

“What?”

“I thought I recognized your voice. But, those swords,” he hummed, gesturing to the weapons. “They’re pretty recognizable. Not from the Earth Kingdom. You stole them off of Fire Nation elite, didn’t you?”

Zuko’s lips pressed into a thin line. “What does any of it matter to you?” He asked, gritting his teeth.

“You don’t remember me at all, do you?” Jet asked. Zuko kept his face unchanging, just tapping his sword on the ground. “I’m the leader of the Freedom Fighters.”

“And what does that matter?”

“Help us.” He folded his arms. “You’re the best assassin I know of. And they’re scared of you.”

“Who’s scared of me?”

“The Fire Nation. The Dai Li. The Beifongs. Li, come on.”

“Get out, Jet. Don’t come back. I don’t want to help a bunch of petty thieves.”

“You’re hard to crack,” Jet hummed. “I’ll get through to you someday, Li.” He jumped off of the ledge of Zuko’s window, disappearing into the night.


	2. No Empty Threats

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok. I cannot, for the life of me, figure out the English name for кривая сабля. But I’m pretty sure that’s the sword Zuko uses? I have no clue. But if any Russian speakers know the English word for that please let me know! Or if you just know the name of the sword he uses. I swear to god I saw it in a museum once but who knows

When Zuko saw that same idiot freedom fighter walk into the shop the next day, he seriously considered just dropping his tray and going up to his apartment. That, or just pour a cup of hot water onto his face. He had that same stupid grin as the day before, as the _night _before, with his eyes trained on the prince. He immediately made his distaste known, rolling his eyes and turning away. Until his Uncle forced him to, he wasn’t going to serve the freedom fighters.__

It seemed to aggravate the other two. He overheard the conversation, accusing Jet of wasting their time, that they had better things to do. And frankly, Zuko couldn’t agree more. He wanted them out of his damn shop. If there weren’t several other customers, he would have at the very least threatened to end Jet’s life. But there were, so he stayed silent.

It was only when he walked past them, when Jet grabbed onto his apron, when he was forced to pay attention to him. He swore, he must have had steam rising off of his skin. But, he kept his voice calm. “Jet, I swear to every spirit out there, if you don’t get out of my shop, I will separate your head from your shoulders.”

“Sure, sure.” Jet’s lackadaisical attitude towards the threat just frustrated him further. He turned to face him, narrowing his eyes. “I’m not gonna leave until I get an answer out of you.”

“I gave you an answer. Now, get out.”

“Alright, alright,” he put his hands up in mock defeat. “All I’m saying, is that… it sure would be a shame if the Fire Nation found you.”

Zuko felt his boiling blood run cold. The threat wasn’t as bad to Jet, but if one fire nation soldier saw his face, that would be a death sentence. “You wouldn’t.”

“Who says I wouldn’t?” He grinned cockily, tilting his head.

“You’d have me killed for non-cooperation?”

“They wouldn’t kill you,” Jet shrugged. “You’d get a while in jail, but it seems worse than just coming with us…” he examined his nails, polishing them against his shirt.

“You play a dirty, dirty game.”

“Meet tonight at midnight on the tracks beside the firework factory. I’m sure you’ll make it just fine.” He stood up, giving his back a pat. It took every ounce of restraint in Zuko’s body to not roast him alive right then and there. He sighed, continuing on to serve what he had set out to in the first place. He gave Jet a threatening glare as they exited, letting out a shaky breath.

The workday was agonizingly slow, then. He wasn’t sure if he was anxious, excited to commit arson… but, it gave him time to think of an excuse to tell Iroh.

“Uncle,” he hummed, as the two closed shop, “I think I’m gonna go out of the city sometime tonight. See if I can’t find any more of those WuYi Yan plants for you,” he hummed. Iroh grinned, looking over.

“Oh, Nephew, you're so considerate. Please be careful. Do not taste anything before you bring it home.”

“Yep,” he nodded, beginning upstairs. “I'll take a quick nap.” After Iroh nodded, he began upstairs to do just that. If he was going to be jumping, fighting, he wanted to be somewhat rested.

He woke up maybe an hour before he was supposed to meet them. He could feel sparks twitching in his fingers from anticipation. He began dressing, his hands rather shaky, pulling on the plain black clothing he wore on outings. He debated even wearing his mask for a while, but decided his scar was definitely too recognizable. He placed a few bits of fabric on the walls of the porcelain to pad and protect his scar, letting out a sigh as he tied it on.

He strapped his swords to his back, making sure all was tightened and secure. He hopped out of the window, opting to run along the tile roofs to get where he was going. He didn’t make much noise, his steps light and quick. It didn’t take him long to get there, and he was early, but the others were there before him. He jumped up onto the empty tracks, landing a little ways away from the three.

“Wait…” Smellerbee pauses, looking between Zuko and Jet. “The Blue Spirit? The kid from the tea shop is *The Blue Spirit?*” she asked, incredulously.

“Shut your mouth before you get me killed,” Zuko muttered, his voice echoing slightly behind the mask. Jet shoved Zuko with a grin, only earning a threatening glare. “If you don’t make this worth my time, I’ll stab you.”

“You have such a way with words, Li,” Jet hummed, wrapping his arm around the prince. Zuko gave him a quick elbow to his inner arm, causing Jet to yelp and bend his arm awkwardly. “Damn, ok, I get it.”

“Just tell me what the hell we’re doing so I can get out of here,” Zuko sighed, standing up with the others.

“Course. It’s easy, this one. Loot the factory for explosives.”

“And what do you plan on doing with those explosives?”

“You’ll find out if you come tomorrow,” he hummed, jumping off of the tracks and down onto the cement. The other three followed, running behind Jet. They climbed up to a weakened window, letting Longshot elbow the window in. “Grab whatever you can.”

The four split apart, each beginning to quietly rummage through the various crates and boxes. It was all silent, their hands softly moving through the explosives to grab what they needed. It was easy to hear a door open behind them, but Zuko reacted first.

A guard had been alerted at the sound of broken glass, moving to check the noise. All Jet heard was the sound of Zuko’s sword being unsheathed, a few steps, and the _disgusting _sound of sharp metal being forced into skin and internal organs. Zuko twisted it, just as insult to injury. By the time Jet looked back, the prince was wiping the blood off of his sword on the guard’s own clothes.__

“Holy shit, did you just kill him?” He asked in a hushed tone.

“No,” the sarcasm in Zuko’s voice was palpable. “He’s just sleeping. Of course I killed him, you idiot. Come on, it won’t be long before they notice he’s missing.” Zuko used a cloth as a makeshift bag to sling onto his back. “Let’s get out of here.”

The others followed his example, all quickly fleeing the scene. Once they were far enough away, they jumped off of the tracks, landing to assess their wares.

“I’m impressed,” Jet remarked, adding up the fireworks they had collected.

“Impressed with numbers, or how fast Li killed that guy?” Smellerbee mumbled.

“Yes, both,” Jet chuckled. “But for real, let’s talk about that—“ he turned to Zuko. “Where did you learn to move that fast?”

Zuko, not keen on saying, ‘dodging fire thrown at me by my family and royal assassins’, just shrugged. “Practice.”

He looked him over, furrowing his brows. There wasn’t even a spot of blood on him. It was beyond impressive, if he was honest. “I like a man who can give a clean kill.”

Ignoring the seemingly flirtatious comment, Zuko just stood up. “Am I free to go without getting a bounty on my head?”

“You are,” Jet grinned. “I hope I see you around some more.”

“I don’t.” And with that, the Blue Spirit disappeared into the night.


	3. Night Terrors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Uhh vomit warning kinda? Not really. Just nausea and dry heaving

Sleep was a rare luxury to the fire prince. To this exile, this war criminal, sleep was fleeting, pushed away by nightmares. No… memories. Memories, phantom pains, tossing, turning, crying. Pain from tears that couldn’t escape his marred eye, blocked by scar tissue and melted flesh. It created a pressure in the front of his head, veering to the left, which became unbearable sometimes. And it was paradoxical, the pain would make him sob, and it would only get worse. It became suffocating some nights, but more often, it made him nauseous.

Heaving into a bucket didn’t do anything for the pain. The mere action of it hurt him. It was mostly dry heaving, considering the boy hardly ate past an occasional bowl of rice and a fair amount of tea. Sometimes, in these moments, he wondered if the pain would kill him, and if that would be better or worse than the fates laid before him as a criminal.

He couldn’t quite remember what he’d seen in his dream that night. It was about his father, he knew, but that didn’t narrow it down much. They normally were. Perhaps it was that fateful Agni Kai, maybe it was any of a myriad of abusive acts. He didn’t know. He just knew his head hurt, and his stomach was churning.

“This happen often?” A voice came from his window. Zuko whipped around, much too fast, to see Jet perched there. It was different, though, he had no smug grin, but a genuine look of concern painting his features.

“Hell are you doing here?” Zuko muttered, clutching onto his abdomen. Jet hopped down, approaching him carefully.

“I thought you were gonna show up tonight.” He squatted down beside the prince, only earning a glare. “What happened?”

Zuko shook his head, generally gesturing to his scarred eye. “Hurts,” he muttered, wiping his mouth on his sleeve. Jet stared at him for a moment, examining the scar carefully.

“That’s a burn,” he observed, bluntly. Zuko just nodded. Jet slowly reached out to touch it, but the prince jerked back. He let his hand fall. “The fire nation really got you good, didn’t they?” Jet had to wonder what someone had to do to get whipped by those flames, the white hot fire that must have caused that burn. His expression softened as he watched Zuko. “Mind if I ask what you did to get it?” He asked, sitting down and crossing his legs beneath himself. Zuko froze, looking away. He stayed silent for what seemed like forever, his mouth opening and closing as he debated what to say.

“I talked back to Fire Lord Ozai,” he finally settled on. It wasn’t a lie, that’s what had happened. But, the image painted in Jet’s mind, of a vigilante, perhaps on an assasination trip, yelling at the Fire Lord, was very different. Different from the thirteen year old boy on his knees before his own father, begging for forgiveness after a small slip up. The thirteen year old boy, who barely had any control over his element, being forced to fight the greatest living Fire Bender, cowering as a snake of flames blinded him. Lying in the infirmary for days, on the blade’s edge of life and death, simply having been lucky to make it out alive. He’d been blind in that eye for almost two years. It seemed to be slowly coming back, but it was dark and fuzzy. Everything was hard to make out, and trying too hard to look made him dizzy.

“You… you’ve met the Fire Lord?” Jet asked in bewilderment, tilting his head to the side. This kid was more impressive than he had first thought. Sure, he knew he was a good fighter, a solid assassin, but… to get that close to Ozai? Zuko shrugged, wiping his face.

“It marred up the tear duct, or something like that. I’m sure it will give me an infection, some day, all that water.” He wasn’t too worried. He was no doctor, but he assumed his own roaring body heat got rid of the tears before they could do any damage. “It just gives me really bad pressure headaches when I cry. It isn’t a huge deal.”

Jet paused, pursing his lip. What horrific things did it take to make this stone cold killer cry? “Pain that makes you throw up is kinda a big deal. Want me to get you some ice or something?”

Zuko had to laugh gently, looking up at him. “Since when do you have any common human decency?” He joked, but Jet didn’t smile. He shook his head. “Uh, no. I’m fine.” He knew he’d just melt it. He’d have to make do.

Jet quickly reached out, swift enough that Zuko couldn’t jerk away, resting the back of his hand against Zuko’s cheek. He frowned. “Li, you’re burning up. I’m getting your Uncle.”

“Don’t you dare wake him,” Zuko warned. He felt his own cheek, shaking his head. “I’m fine. Don’t wake him. He needs rest, and he’d kill you for breaking and entering.”

“Technically only entering. Your window was open,” he huffed. “But, seriously. I’ve never felt a fever that high. I’ll come check on you tomorrow with medicine.”

“I’ll be working, and I don’t need medicine. Why do you care, anyways?”

“Listen, Li, you were incredible last night. I know you hate me, but you’ve done a lot for us, whether you like it or not.”

“I stole fireworks.”

Jet shook his head, smiling a bit. “Yeah, but you’ve done more. Do you remember that little port town you saved in a fire nation attack?”

“I’ve saved a lot of little port towns from Fire Nation attacks.”

“Well, you saved Smellerbee’s entire family, back there. Maybe her, too. Not sure. She didn’t say much. But I don’t think she’d be fighting with us if you hadn’t.”

“Well, I didn’t mean to save her or her family.”

“But you did, and that’s what matters.” Jet pat his shoulder, pushing himself up. “Will you kick me out if I come get something tomorrow?”

“Depends on how annoying you are,” Zuko muttered. The other only laughed, hopping out of his window to go… wherever he went.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are my life blood ok


End file.
